817 lines
35 KiB
Plaintext
817 lines
35 KiB
Plaintext
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THE SONGS OF "CELTIC CIRCLE DANCE" WTP-0002C
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AND "THE BLACK BOOK OF LOCKSLEY" CM Prod. (no number yet)
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With chordings as annotated by Ioseph of Locksley
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for Janos der Kleiner, Yule 1990
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**************************************************
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STRANGEST DREAM
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copyright 1984 W. J. Bethancourt III
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recorded: CELTIC CIRCLE DANCE WTP-0002C
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C F C
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Last night I had the strangest dream in this bleak century
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G7 C Am Dm7 G7 C
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I dreamed that people the world around believed in Chivalry
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F C F C
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I dreamed I saw a Kingly Crown enshrined in laurel leaves
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F C Am Dm7 G7 C
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with Grace and Joy and Purity attendant at his feet
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I dreamed I saw the perfect Knight receive his accolade
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and minstrels sang and children laughed in some soft forest glade
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I dreamed I saw the finest thing that ever man could make
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grow great and strong and undefiled: Pray God I never wake!
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Last night I had the strangest dream in this bleak century
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I dreamed that people the world around believed in Chivalry
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***********************************************************
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CELTIC CIRCLE DANCE
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copyright 1984 W. J. Bethancourt III
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recorded: CELTIC CIRCLE DANCE, WTP-0002
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tune: "Same Old Man/Leatherwing Bat" (Trad. Appalachian)
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The Guitar is tuned "DADGBD" and only two chords are used:
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"D" dorian mode:
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string: 6 5 4 3 2 1 this is just like a normal "D" chord but with
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fret number: 0 0 0 2 3 0 first string unfingered.
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"C" dorian mode:
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string: 6 5 4 3 2 1 the 5th and 6th strings fingered like "C"
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fret number: 0 3 2 0 3 0 with the 2nd string held from the other chord.
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D C
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Hi said the Norn, sittin in the sand
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D
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once I talked to a great Grey Man
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D
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spun three times and said with a sigh
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C D
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hadn't been for the Runes had his other eye!
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Chorus: hi diddle i diddle i day
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hi diddle i diddle i diddle ay
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hi di diddle i diddle i day
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fol the dink a dum diddle do di day
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Hi said the Lady, dressed in green The Circle forms, the Circle flows
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prettiest thing I've ever seen the Circle goes where no man knows
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she went down underneath the hill Hail to the Lady, one in three:
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and came back out of her own free will Present is Past and Past is Me!
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Brian Boru, on Irish ground Hi said the Lady dressed in white
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walked three times the Island round sang the Day and sang the Night
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Norsemen came lookin for a fight sang the Land and sang the Sea
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just another Irish Saturday night! sang the Song, and then sang Me!
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Hi said Lugh on the banquet night Salt and oil and mirror bright
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a poet and a player and a good wheelwright fire and fleet and candlelight
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a harper and a warrior and none the least: by fin and feather, leaf and tree,
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a Druid and he got in to the Feast! fill the cup and blessed be!
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Harold Haardrada's face was red! From the misty crystal sea
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Came to Britain and he wound up dead Came the Lady to the lea
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Stamford Bridge is where he's found Sword and Roses in Her Hand
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got six feet of English ground Spread their seeds thruout the Land
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the Legion with it's Eagles bright Came the Stag from oaken wood
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marched into the Pictish night saw the Lady where she stood
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met them there upon the sand by the fire burning bright
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gave em up to the Wicker Man! came to know his heart's delight!
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eight-legged steed and hound of Hel By Sword and Harp, and Irish Hound
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the one-eyed Man, he loves ya well Blessed Be: the Day I've found
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fire burn and fire spark Hail to the Lady, one in Three
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are you then feared of the dark? Present is Past and Past is WE
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Rhiannon's Birds are still in flight By Oak and Ash and Holy Thorn
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all thru the Day all thru the Night Blessed be the Day you're born!
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Hail to the Lady, one in Three Fire burn and fire bright
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Present is Past and Past is Thee! walk in safety thru the night
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*************************************************************
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The lyrics to "A Pict Song" can be found in
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Rudyard Kipling's book "Puck Of Pook's Hill."
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Due to copyright restrictions they are NOT
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included here.
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**************************************************************
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LORD OF THE DANCE
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-Gwyddion PenDderwyn, Amy Falkowitz, Ann Case, Len Rosenberg
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The chord "Am+G" is fingered by raising the first finger off the 2nd
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string in a standard "Am" chord and then placing the little finger on
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the 6th string, 3rd fret (G).
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The chord "Am+B" is fingered by raising the first finger off the 2nd
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string in a standard "Am" chord.
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Am
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She danced on the water, and the wind was Her horn
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G E7
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The Lady laughed, and everything was born
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Am Dm
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And when She lit the sun and its' light gave Him birth
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Am Am+G E7
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The Lord of the Dance first appeared on the Earth
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Am
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(Chorus): Dance, dance, where ever you may be
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C G (Bm) E7
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I am the Lord of the Dance, you see!
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Am Am+B Am
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I live in you, and you live in Me
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Am Am+B G E7 Am
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And I lead you all in the Dance, said He!
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I danced in the morning when the World was begun
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I danced in the Moon and the Stars and the Sun
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I was called from the Darkness by the Song of the Earth
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I joined in the Song, and She gave Me the Birth!
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I dance in the Circle when the flames leap up high
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I dance in the Fire, and I never, ever, die
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I dance in the waves of the bright summer sea
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For I am the Lord of the wave's mystery
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I sleep in the kernel, and I dance in the rain
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I dance in the wind, and thru the waving grain
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And when you cut me down, I care nothing for the pain;
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In the Spring I'm the Lord of the Dance once again!
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I dance at the Sabbat when you dance out the Spell
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I dance and sing that everyone be well
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And when the dancing's over do not think that I am gone
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To live is to Dance! So I dance on, and on!
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I see the Maidens laughing as they dance in the Sun
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And I count the fruits of the Harvest, one by one
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I know the Storm is coming, but the Grain is all stored
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So I sing of the Dance of the Lady, and Her Lord:
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The Horn of the Lady cast its' sound 'cross the Plain
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The birds took the notes, and gave them back again
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Till the sound of Her music was a Song in the sky
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And to that Song there is only one reply:
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The moon in her phases, and the tides of the sea
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The movement of the Earth, and the Seasons that will be
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Are the rhythm for the dancing, and a promise thru the years
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That the Dance goes on thru all our joy, and tears
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We dance ever slower as the leaves fall and spin
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And the sound of the Horn is the wailing of the wind
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The Earth is wrapped in stillness, and we move in a trance,
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But we hold on fast to our faith in the Dance!
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The sun is in the southland and the days grow chill
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And the sound of the horn is fading on the hill
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'Tis the horn of the Hunter, as he rides across the plain
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And the Lady sleeps 'til the Spring comes again
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The Sun is in the Southland and the days lengthen fast
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And soon we will sing for the Winter that is past
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Now we light the candles and rejoice as they burn
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And we dance the Dance of the Sun's return!
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They danced in the darkness and they danced in the night
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They danced on the Earth, and everything was light
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They danced out the Darkness and they danced in the Dawn
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And the Day of that Dancing is still going on!
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I gaze on the Heavens and I gaze on the Earth
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And I feel the pain of dying, and re-birth
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And I lift my head in gladness, and in praise
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For the Dance of the Lord, and His Lady gay
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I dance in the stars as they whirl throughout space
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And I dance in the pulse of the veins in your face
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No dance is too great, no dance is too small,
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You can look anywhere, for I dance in them all!
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*************************************************************
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FARAIS UN VERS DREIT RIEN
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-William IX, Count of Poitiers
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tune: Ioseph of Locksley
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copyright 1976 W.J.Bethancourt III
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recorded: "Celtic Circle Dance"
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G C
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I'll make some verses just for fun
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G Am7 D7
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Not about me, nor anyone
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G C Am7
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Nor deeds that noble Knights have done,
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G D7
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Nor Love's ado
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G C
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I made them riding, in the sun..
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G D7 G (D G)
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My horses helped, too!
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When I was born? I cannot say!
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I am not sad, I am not fey,
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I am not stiff, nor degage...
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What shall I do?
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Long since, enchanted by a Fay,
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Star-touched I grew.
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Dreaming for living I'll mistake
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Unless I'm told when I'm awake
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My heart is sad, and nigh to break
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With bitter rue
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And I don't care three crumbs of cake
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Nor even two!
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So ill am I that Death I fear
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(I nothing know but what I hear...)
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I hope there is a doctor near
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no matter who!
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If he can cure me, I'll pay dear;
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If not: He's thru!
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I have a Lady; who, or where
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I cannot tell you, but I swear
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She treats me neither ill, nor fair,
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But I'm not blue...
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Just as the * Normans * stay...up there...
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OUT of Poitou!
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I have not seen, yet I adore
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This distant love, she sets no store
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On what I think, and furthermore...
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('tis sad, but true)
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Others there are...some three...or four...
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I'm....faithful....to!
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I've made this verse, if you'll allow
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I think I'll pass it on right now
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To one who'll send it on, somehow,
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Up to Anjou.
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He'd tell me what it means, I vow,
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If he but knew!
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********************************************************
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TWA CORBIES
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(Child #26)
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(Tune: from Brittany: "Al Alarc'h")
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recorded by Joe Bethancourt
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"Celtic Circle Dance"
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This is best done a capella, but if you need chordal accompaniment,
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use the tuning and chords for Celtic Circle Dance.
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As I gang waukin' all alane
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I heard twa corbies makin' a mane
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the t'ane untae t'ither spake
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whaur sall we gang and dine today?
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On yonder hill by yon auld fail dyke
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I wot there lies a nu slain knight
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and nae man ken that he lies there
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save hawk and hound and Lady fair
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His hound is tae th' huntin' gaen
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his hawk tae fetch th' wyld fowl haem
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his Lady's ta'en anither mate
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so we may mak' noo our dinner sweet
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Thou sall sit on his bonny hause-bein
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and I'll pluck oot his bonny blue e'en
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His luvly strands of gowden haar
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sall theek our nest when it grows bare
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There's mony a man for him mak's mane
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but nane sall ken whaur he has gaen
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o'wer his whyte bones when they are bare
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the wynd sall blaw forever mair.
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***********************************************************
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SONGS FROM "THE BLACK BOOK OF LOCKSLEY"
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DIE GEDANKEN SIND FREI
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-from the Bundshuh Rebellion, March 17, 1525
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Translation by Arthur Kevess copyright 1950 People's Songs Inc.
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Recorded: "The Black Book of Locksley"
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A E7 A
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Die Gedanken sind frei, wer kann sie erraten?
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A E7 A
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Sie fliehen vorbei wie naechlichte shaten
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E7 A E7 A
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Kein Mensch kann sie wissen, kein Jager ershiessen
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D A E7 A
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Es bleibet dabei: die Gedanken sind frei!
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Die Gendanken sind frei: my thoughts freely flower
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Die Gedanken sind frei: my thoughts give me power
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No scholar can map them, no hunter can trap them
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No man can deny: Die Gedanken sind frei!
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Ich denke was ich will, und was mich begluecket
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Doch alles in der Still, und wie es sich shicket
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Mein Wunsch und Begehren kann niemand verwehren
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Es bleibet dabei: Die Gedanken sind frei!
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I think as I please, and this gives me pleasure
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My concience decrees: this Right I must treasure!
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My thoughts will not cater to Duke nor Dictator
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No man can deny: Die Gedanken sind frei!
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Und sperrt man mich ein im finsteren Kerker
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Das alles sind rein vegebliche Werke;
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Denn meine Gedanken zerreissen die Schranken
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Und Mauern entzwei: Die Gedanken sind frei!
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And if tyrants take me and throw me in prison
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My thoughts will burst free, like blossoms in season!
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Foundations will crumble, the prison will tumble,
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And free men will cry: Die Gedanken sind frei!
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Es bleibet dabei: Die Gedanken Sind Frei!
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********************************************************
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ATENVELDT
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-Ioseph of Locksley (c) copyright 1974, 1990 W.J.Bethancourt III
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(Tune: "The West's Awake"
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G C Am
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For all the Lands where I have dwelt
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D7 G
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Oh Atenveldt, Oh Atenveldt
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G C Am
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till rivers burn and mountains melt
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D7 G
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lest I forget my Atenveldt
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G C
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From deserts stark to snow-capped peaks
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C Am D7
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from silent lakes and laughing creeks
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G C G
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sing: Oh let man find his heart's ease
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D7 G
|
||
|
|
on rocky plains, in desert breeze
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
For oft I thought of mighty men
|
||
|
|
who carved a Land with sword and pen
|
||
|
|
and lit a candle, burning bright,
|
||
|
|
that pierced the darkness; stirred the night!
|
||
|
|
tho some are gone their deeds remain
|
||
|
|
this sunny Crown without a stain
|
||
|
|
sing: Oh, their deeds were not in vain!
|
||
|
|
in sunlit days, and falling rain.....
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
So raise your banners, blazoned bright
|
||
|
|
Advance the Dream and Shine the Light!
|
||
|
|
in battle's crash and Revel's song
|
||
|
|
raise high the Flag and wave it long!
|
||
|
|
For all the Lands wherein I've dwelt
|
||
|
|
I love you best, my Atenveldt!
|
||
|
|
Sing: Oh the Joy that I have felt!
|
||
|
|
My Atenveldt...My Atenveldt!
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
***********************************************************
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
WEAPONS AT THE DOOR
|
||
|
|
-Ioseph of Locksley
|
||
|
|
(c) 1974 W. J. Bethancourt III
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Being a Polemic concerning the alleged Custom of the West Kingdom concerning
|
||
|
|
checking your Weapons at the Door of the Revel Hall. As the Satire is the
|
||
|
|
Weapon of the Bard, this said Polemic is to be checked at the Door, along with
|
||
|
|
swords, knives, redheaded Ladies and other such Deadly Things.....
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
G C G D7 G
|
||
|
|
As I roved out to Western Lands to take the Western Air
|
||
|
|
G C G D7 G
|
||
|
|
I went into a Revel Hall and I saw a Twelfth Night there
|
||
|
|
G Em G D7
|
||
|
|
but I was halted at the gate by a Privy Consellor
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
(in false Gregorian Chant:) that's the man who tells the King of
|
||
|
|
the West how to go to the bath room!
|
||
|
|
G C G D7 G
|
||
|
|
who told me I would have to check my Weapons at the door
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
As I, in my astonishment, stood hung on tenter-pegs
|
||
|
|
a Knight came in whose Prouess hung down between his legs
|
||
|
|
the Doorman grabbed a greatsword and he struck the Knight full sore
|
||
|
|
and gave him a reciept; he left his weapon at the door!
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
a Bard was next whose goodly Voice has entertained us all
|
||
|
|
but he, too, was prevented from entering the Hall
|
||
|
|
and told he could not carry deadly weapons on the floor
|
||
|
|
he left his Voice and Harp among the weapons at the door
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
a Master entered graciously, a man we all know well
|
||
|
|
who holds a 3rd Dan Black Belt, tho this he'd never tell
|
||
|
|
the Master struggled valiantly, the Master cursed and swore
|
||
|
|
but he left his hands, and feet, as weapons at the door
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
the company was jovial, altho a bit dismayed
|
||
|
|
for lack of proper cutlery, down to the smallest blade
|
||
|
|
for even teeth and fingernails, each can be used in War
|
||
|
|
were cut, and pulled, and left behind, as weapons at the door!
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
And has their King not loyal Knights that He must be afraid
|
||
|
|
of brawling in his Hall and of Assassin's bloody blade?
|
||
|
|
the Rights of Men to carry Arms at least WE'VE not foreswore
|
||
|
|
and a POX on them that made the Rule of Weapons at the Door!
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
*************************************************************
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
MY LOVE, MY LOVE: YOU BROKE MY HEART
|
||
|
|
-William of the Shire -Ioseph of Locksley
|
||
|
|
copyright 1971, 1989 W.J.Bethancourt III
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Am B7 Am G Am E7 Am
|
||
|
|
My love, my love, you broke my heart; I'm off to join the Wars
|
||
|
|
Am B7 Am G Am E7 Am A
|
||
|
|
I'm off to free the Holy Land from Saracens and Moors.
|
||
|
|
D A D D6 E7
|
||
|
|
And if you ever loved me dear, prepare my plot and stone
|
||
|
|
Am B7 Am G Am E7 A
|
||
|
|
Turn loose my hawks and hunting hounds: I'll not be riding home.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Prepare the funeral hatchment around my blazon bright
|
||
|
|
Go tell the Priest to sing the Mass; make restful my Soul's night
|
||
|
|
And if you ever loved me dear, prepare my plot and stone
|
||
|
|
Turn loose my hawks and hunting hounds: I'll not be riding home.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
I cannot live with broken heart; the wound you gave will kill.
|
||
|
|
And Death's cold hand is on my Soul, I feel his awful chill.
|
||
|
|
My Destiny lies on the Field, in months, or days, or years....
|
||
|
|
And if you never loved me dear, shed not your lying tears.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
************************************************************
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
THE ITSY BITSY TEENY WEENY.......
|
||
|
|
-Ioseph of Locksley
|
||
|
|
copyright 1989 W.J.Bethancourt III
|
||
|
|
(The tune should be obvious!)
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
G D7
|
||
|
|
She was afraid to come out to the Tourney
|
||
|
|
D7 G
|
||
|
|
She was worried that "something might show.."
|
||
|
|
G C
|
||
|
|
She was afraid to come out to the Tourney
|
||
|
|
G D7 G
|
||
|
|
And the poor thing did NOT want to go...
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
(2 - 3 - 4, tell the people what she wore!)
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
D7 G
|
||
|
|
It was an itsy bitsy teeny weenie little rabbit fur bikini
|
||
|
|
D7 G
|
||
|
|
That she wore, for the first time, that day.
|
||
|
|
D7 G
|
||
|
|
An itsy bitsy teenie weenie little rabbit fur bikini
|
||
|
|
D7 G
|
||
|
|
And in her apartment she wanted to stay!
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
One day in the Kingdom of the Middle
|
||
|
|
It happened at a Tourney one day:
|
||
|
|
The Mongols invaded the Middle
|
||
|
|
But the Middle did not want to play...
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
(eins - zwei - drei, but the Dark Horde wouldn't die!)
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
It was an itsy bitsy tiny teenie Nauseating Mongol weenie
|
||
|
|
That they saw, for the first time, that day.
|
||
|
|
An itsy bitsy tiny teenie Nauseating Mongol weenie
|
||
|
|
And the Mongols did NOT go away!
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Now the Heralds made up a new Rulebook
|
||
|
|
And to read it is some kind of gas!
|
||
|
|
It's a bureaucrat's dream, this new Rulebook
|
||
|
|
Now NOBODY'S blazon can pass!
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
(Win - Place - Show, tell the Heralds where to go!)
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
(insert Bronx cheer!)
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
I want an itsy bitsy teenie weenie little rabbit fur bikini
|
||
|
|
On my shield, as my blazon, today!
|
||
|
|
An itsy bitsy teenie weenie little rabbit fur bikini
|
||
|
|
But "that's offensive" the Heralds all say!
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
I sat down at the Revel last evening
|
||
|
|
To a feast of green meat, and Rat Pie...
|
||
|
|
It was cold, and disgusting, and greasy
|
||
|
|
And I just want to upchuck and die!
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
(6 - 7 - 8, tell them what was on your plate!)
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
It was an itsy bitsy teenie weenie little rabbit fur bikini
|
||
|
|
With a side dish of cold cabbage pie!
|
||
|
|
An itsy bitsy teenie weenie little rabbit fur bikini
|
||
|
|
With the fur on, and NOTHING inside!
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
(This was written to bug my sweet wife to death with...........heheh!)
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
******************************************************
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
THE BARD'S SONG
|
||
|
|
-Ioseph of Locksley
|
||
|
|
(c) copyright 1990 W. J. Bethancourt III
|
||
|
|
(Tune: "Dublin City")
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
G C
|
||
|
|
As I walked out one quiet evening
|
||
|
|
C Am D7
|
||
|
|
At the hour of twelve at night
|
||
|
|
G C
|
||
|
|
Who should I meet but a fair young maiden
|
||
|
|
Am Am
|
||
|
|
Combin' her hair by candle light;
|
||
|
|
G Em
|
||
|
|
Lassie, I have come a-courtin'
|
||
|
|
G Am D
|
||
|
|
Your kind favours for to win
|
||
|
|
G Em
|
||
|
|
And if you'd heed my petition
|
||
|
|
Am D7
|
||
|
|
I would be your Paladin...
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
G Em
|
||
|
|
(CHORUS) Gather roses in the Springtime
|
||
|
|
C D7
|
||
|
|
Gather roses while ye may,
|
||
|
|
G Em
|
||
|
|
Time is passing; roses wither;
|
||
|
|
C D7
|
||
|
|
Winter comes; we're here -today-.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Have you seen the dew a-formin'
|
||
|
|
On the grass at early morn?
|
||
|
|
Have you seen the forest quiet,
|
||
|
|
Or a stag that's barely born?
|
||
|
|
Have you seen the dawn a-breakin'
|
||
|
|
O'er the Western Ocean's tide?
|
||
|
|
Have you felt my heart a-beatin'
|
||
|
|
When it's held close to your side?
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
I can give no gold or silver,
|
||
|
|
I can give no fields of land,
|
||
|
|
I can give no servants brisk
|
||
|
|
To wait on you both foot and hand;
|
||
|
|
I can give you wide roads callin'
|
||
|
|
Wind and Rain, and Moon and Sun,
|
||
|
|
Songs to sing, and love and laughter,
|
||
|
|
Dresses made of plain home-spun.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Come dance with me upon the greensward
|
||
|
|
in the moonlight, in the Spring.
|
||
|
|
Dance with me within the forest
|
||
|
|
Dance with me within the ring!
|
||
|
|
Earth below us, stars above us,
|
||
|
|
Fire and water by our side,
|
||
|
|
Dance with me within the moonlight,
|
||
|
|
Dance with me, and be my Bride!
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
**************************************************
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
A REPORT ON THE SPANISH EXPEDITION OF '92
|
||
|
|
-Goddwyn of Britain
|
||
|
|
-tune: "It's A Small World After All"
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
D A7
|
||
|
|
'Twas in fourteen hundred and ninety-two
|
||
|
|
A7 D
|
||
|
|
Chris Columbus sailed 'cross the ocean blue
|
||
|
|
D
|
||
|
|
Didn't find what he'd planned,
|
||
|
|
G
|
||
|
|
So he told Ferdinand
|
||
|
|
D A7 D
|
||
|
|
It's a New World after all!
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
D A7
|
||
|
|
It's a New World after all
|
||
|
|
A7 D
|
||
|
|
It's a New World after all
|
||
|
|
D D7 G (Em)
|
||
|
|
It's a New World after all
|
||
|
|
A7 D
|
||
|
|
It's a Brand New World!
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
So it isn't India - we won't get spice,
|
||
|
|
They have things there, King, that are just as nice!
|
||
|
|
There's a spring there, forsooth,
|
||
|
|
Called the Fountain of Youth!
|
||
|
|
In that New World, after all!
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
It's a New World after all,
|
||
|
|
And it's round just like a ball!
|
||
|
|
That Italian showed 'em all!
|
||
|
|
It's a Brave New World!
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
It's a world of treasure, a World to gain!
|
||
|
|
It's a world of riches, and all for Spain!
|
||
|
|
It'll be oh so fine
|
||
|
|
When the Pope draws the Line!
|
||
|
|
It's a New World after all!
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
It's a New World, after all,
|
||
|
|
Like an Eden ere the Fall,
|
||
|
|
We won't share with Portugal!
|
||
|
|
'Cause it's Spain's New World!
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Oh, the Natives are friendly as they can be,
|
||
|
|
Gave us gifts of maize, and a little VD,
|
||
|
|
And the folk, not a one,
|
||
|
|
Heard of Lief Eriksson!
|
||
|
|
So it's Spain's world after all!
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Go to Spain's world, one and all,
|
||
|
|
Get there if you have to crawl!
|
||
|
|
I hear El Dorado call,
|
||
|
|
There in Spain's New World!
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Oh, the Aztecs and Mayans have lots of gold,
|
||
|
|
And the Incas have more, or so we've been told,
|
||
|
|
When those far western shores
|
||
|
|
Meet the Conquistadores,
|
||
|
|
Then it's Spain's world, after all!
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
When it's Spain's world, after all,
|
||
|
|
Then on England soon will fall
|
||
|
|
The Armada, strong and tall,
|
||
|
|
'Cause it's Spain's New World!
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
********************************************************
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
HARP SONG OF THE DANE WOMEN
|
||
|
|
-Rudyard Kipling
|
||
|
|
tune by Ioseph of Locksley
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
This is done in a chant-like melody. Just hold an "Am" with
|
||
|
|
occasional shifts to "Am+B", or do it in retuning DADGBD like
|
||
|
|
Celtic Circle Dance without the "C" chord.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
What is a woman that you forsake her?
|
||
|
|
and the hearth fire, and the home-acre?
|
||
|
|
to go with the old, grey Widow-Maker?
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
She has no house to lay a guest in
|
||
|
|
but one chill bed for all to rest in
|
||
|
|
that the pale suns and the stray bergs nest in
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
She has no strong white arms to fold you
|
||
|
|
but the ten times fingering weeds to hold you
|
||
|
|
out on the rocks where the tide has rolled you
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Yet, when the signs of Summer thicken
|
||
|
|
and the ice breaks and the birch-buds quicken
|
||
|
|
yearly you turn from our side and sicken
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Sicken again for the shouts and the slaughters
|
||
|
|
you steal away to the lapping waters
|
||
|
|
and look at your ship in her winter quarters
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
You forget our mirth, and talk at the tables
|
||
|
|
the kine in the shed and the horse in the stables
|
||
|
|
to pitch her sides and go over her cables...
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Then you drive out where the storm clouds swallow
|
||
|
|
and the sound of your oar-blades, falling hollow
|
||
|
|
is all we have left through the months to follow
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Ah...but what is a woman that you forsake her?
|
||
|
|
and the hearth fire, and the home-acre?
|
||
|
|
to go with the old, grey Widow-maker?
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
********************************************************
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
THE BALLAD OF THE THREE KINGS
|
||
|
|
-Sir Bela of Eastmarch
|
||
|
|
copyright 1980 Poul Anderson
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
note: in spots the "Em" is fingered like this:
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
string: 6 5 4 3 2 1
|
||
|
|
fret: 0 2 4 0 0 0
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
and that "B7" chord is highly problematical. You can use "D" and even
|
||
|
|
"C" there, too, as you like.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
(start on "Em")
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
C Em
|
||
|
|
Three Kings rode out on the road to Hell
|
||
|
|
C Em
|
||
|
|
ravens flew on the gale
|
||
|
|
C Em
|
||
|
|
the night wind rang like an iron bell
|
||
|
|
Em
|
||
|
|
and hissed with sleet and hail
|
||
|
|
C Em
|
||
|
|
three Kings rode out thru the Gates of Hell
|
||
|
|
Em B7 Em
|
||
|
|
and on to Death's Highway
|
||
|
|
Em
|
||
|
|
the King of the Britons
|
||
|
|
Em
|
||
|
|
the King of the Huns
|
||
|
|
Em B7 Em
|
||
|
|
and the King of Nor-o-way!
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
And the King of the Britons was helmed with gold
|
||
|
|
and rode a stallion white
|
||
|
|
"Oh all men go when they are cold
|
||
|
|
but I go not in fright!
|
||
|
|
A goodly King who loved his Folk
|
||
|
|
and guarded them with the rod....
|
||
|
|
and stake...and gallows....against themselves
|
||
|
|
will surely go to God!"
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
And the King of the Huns was helmed in steel
|
||
|
|
and rode a stallion red
|
||
|
|
"Oh fiercely proud my fathers feel
|
||
|
|
of me, who crowned my head
|
||
|
|
halfway round a world in pain,
|
||
|
|
which I did mightily win
|
||
|
|
and surely I go to my Father's Fane
|
||
|
|
and not to the evil Djinn!"
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
And the King of Norway was helmed with wings
|
||
|
|
and rode a stallion grey
|
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|
|
"Truly proud my heart now feels
|
||
|
|
Odin gets me today!
|
||
|
|
I died in bed, ah, but first I hung
|
||
|
|
full many a squealing thrall
|
||
|
|
from Odin's Tree. With Rune on tongue
|
||
|
|
I go now to Odin's Hall!"
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Three Kings rode out thru the depths of Hell
|
||
|
|
with a bloody-breasted Hound
|
||
|
|
that howls above black rivers that run
|
||
|
|
icy beneath the ground
|
||
|
|
Three Kings a Final Judgement won
|
||
|
|
from the High God's lips that day:
|
||
|
|
The Devil took the Briton,
|
||
|
|
the Djinni took the Hun,
|
||
|
|
and Hell took Nor-o-way!
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
*********************************************************
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
FLOWER OF THE DESERT
|
||
|
|
-Baldwin of Erebor
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
G Am7 D7 G
|
||
|
|
On a warm winter's evening I stopped at an Inn
|
||
|
|
Am7 D7 G
|
||
|
|
I met a bold captain; a leader of men
|
||
|
|
Am7 D7 G
|
||
|
|
he asked me to join him, for he was alone
|
||
|
|
Am7 D7 G
|
||
|
|
and, as he was drinking, he spoke of his home
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
G C Am7
|
||
|
|
(Chorus): Oh, Flower of the Desert full well may you boast!
|
||
|
|
D7 G
|
||
|
|
Proud Father-of-Kingdoms from mountains to coast!
|
||
|
|
G C Am7
|
||
|
|
the Land of the Phoenix; your works have been felt!
|
||
|
|
D7 G
|
||
|
|
Oh Flower of the Desert: Atenveldt!
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
When I was a young man and still in my prime
|
||
|
|
My life stretched before me; I had plenty of time
|
||
|
|
But now I'm an old man, and I number my days
|
||
|
|
And I think of my homeland that seems so far away
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
I've followed the Wars now for many a year
|
||
|
|
Rode plenty of wenches; drank an ocean of beer
|
||
|
|
Lived life to the fullest as a soldier must do
|
||
|
|
but I'd trade it all, freely, for the Atenveldt blue!
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
The fire died to embers; he drank steadily on
|
||
|
|
When I woke in the morning the soldier was gone.
|
||
|
|
But I think of his story wherever I bide
|
||
|
|
What a beautiful Kingdom to inspire such pride!
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
******************************************************
|
||
|
|
|